Discretion
by xXYouDon'tKnowMeAtAllXx
Summary: When Kendra makes a revelation that puts his reputation at risk, Kyle becomes her slave, but he may end up learning something about himself in the process.


Discretion

A Beastly fanfic

He was despicable. Intolerably despicable. Intolerably, immensely, irritatingly despicable. Kendra hated him with a flame that burned in the very depths of her soul, a place reserved especially for assholes like him and his father, Rob.

Kyle Kingson , aside from his idiocy, was bent on taking the virginity of every female at Buckston. She was sure he would fuck anything with a hole.

Kendra Hilferty was the unattainable goal, the creed. The ultimate. Kyle Kingson always wanted what he couldn't have.

He bullied her, intimidated her, abused her every chance he got. Most times, it was on her appearance. Her fashion, her oddity style.

Most saw it as harmless teasing. She saw him for what he was.

A menace. A monster. Years of self glorification put him on an ego-trip. Of course, he could be tamed and oh, what a sweet vengeance that would be.

Although it would be a task she'd have to wholly prepare for.

In the course of preparation, she spurned his advances and ignored his vile words. Tolerated his utter douchebaggery for a period of time.

It was hell. _Fucking hell. _Sometimes she just wanted to scratch his eyeballs out. His taunting words burned in the back of her mind when she laid down for bed and rose in the morning.

After the entirety of a month, she had her plan. He would be her slave. At her every beckon call, he would come.

So she trotted slowly through the hall, knowing the distinct click of her heels would turn his head.

"Kendra. Still look like you're missing a convention in _Hell."_

"You _look _like hell. Obviously the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. And apparently this one got hit by a fucking lawnmower."

"Excuse me?"

"Let's delve into the root of why you take such pleasure in making me feel like shit?"

"You look like shit."

"And you love it when I dress like shit, don't you? Get a dirty,disgusting thrill out of it?"

"_What?_"

"Contrary to your belief, I'm neither blind nor stupid, Kyle Kingson."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, the reason you have tortured me since elementary school is because you-" She pointed a black polished finger at him. "Like me."

"You're more deluded than I thought."

"Am I? Why is it,then, almost half of our chance encounters you comment on my appearance, my _body?_" Kendra purred. Kyle opened his mouth to reply, but closed it. "Keep your mouth shut, or I will tell _everyone _your dirty little secret. I'll keep my mouth shut on my terms. I don't care if you're in bed with the flu or in bed with Beyoncé. When I call, you come. Task one. Carry my books to class." Kendra commanded, slamming her books into his stomach. He took them, defeated. Kendra Hilferty had bested him and if he wanted to keep his solid gold reputation he'd be her beckon call.

It was his discretion.

Kendra walked agonizingly slow and he had no choice but to keep to her pace. The distinct click of her heels would be forever burned in his mind. It would be until he drew his last breathe. It was disturbing, like the scene in a horror film where you just know the bad guy is on the other side of the door and then the floor creaks.

It stops your heart for just a second.

"Here. Open the door." He did as she bid him and she entered the class. History. This was his class too. How had he not recognized her in class? A few people peered up at him, some astonished, most confused by his compromising position. Kendra stopped at a desk in the back and he set her books down. He turned to join his friend, but Kendra cleared her throat. "You sit here, now." She pointed to an empty desk beside her. He sat down and frowned.

His father would be ashamed of him for letting a woman run him around.

He noticed she crossed her legs when she sat. He never really took notice of anyone but himself. He never took the time.

Course, he never _had _time. He was too busy impressing people. Impressing his father most of all. His father was never truly pleased with his son. If he got B's, he wanted A's. When he got A's, they needed to stay A's. When he was studying, he should've been playing football. When he was playing football, he should've been studying. The man was impossible to please.

So, Kyle turned to pleasing the world. Which, also turned out to be impossible. Eventually, he went to pleasing the people he could please. His familiars, friends and admirers.

You can't please everybody.

But when he pleased people, he _pleased _them. Especially girls. He knew how to please a woman.

That was why he had almost given up on Kendra as a conquest. She was just a conquest, right? Sign the mattress(Which he was famous for) and leave.

There couldn't possibly have been deeper feelings for her than just a fuck. He didn't have the mental capacity to fall in love. He wasn't loved himself. He barely even loved himself. Kendra would find that hard to believe, but it was true.

Of course, looking back, most of his actions toward Kendra were uncalled for and downright malicious. He was caught in the crowd, and couldn't take any of it back. But did he regret them?...Maybe. Would he say sorry? Who knew. Would she even accept his apology. He doubted that.

And lately, he was tired of waiting for his peers to let him be Kyle. Not Kyle "The God" Kingson, Not Rob Kingson's boy, Not Kyle"OMG" Kingson. Kyle.

If he ever got the chance, he'd take back the times he gave in. He'd be himself, shine in his own little light.

He highly doubted that would happen soon. He didn't know how to be himself. He couldn't think for himself.

-After school-

He wasn't sure how he knew where Kendra Hilferty lived, but that wasn't his problem. Once he found the address, he knocked on the front door. Kendra cracked the door open. "Kyle?"

"I need your help with something."


End file.
